


Only Salvation

by Detavot



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Canon - Manga, Gen, Manga & Anime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 20:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17392997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detavot/pseuds/Detavot
Summary: "Why can't I find my way to you, is what I'd like to ask... But I think we both know the answer to that."





	Only Salvation

    Ciel could still feel how he had felt on the fateful night of his death. He could feel the cold and cracked altar on his back as he was pressed onto it. He could feel the hands holding his arms back and pressing against his chest to cease his struggling. He could smell the heavy and sickly scent that the cursed room always had, as well as the foul mouth stench of the cultists. He could still hear the crowd excitedly murmuring, the leader chanting, and his brother begging. He could still feel the knife tearing into his stomach. He could still feel how cold and numb he had felt as he slowly bled out. He could still feel the gaping hole where his soul had once been.

    And then there were the feelings that came much later. The memories he could finally remember when he had gained full consciousness. Some of them were awful, some of them left him feeling warm and happy.

    He could remember the ungodly amount of pain he has suffered when the demon took his soul. He could remember how he could, rarely, hear his brother’s voice. He could remember how warm his hand would always feel, because he would always be holding his brother’s hand. How warm his body would feel because they were always in close proximity to each other. He could remember how his parents would always smile. He could remember how warm sunlight felt on his skin. He could remember laughing. He could remember his brother laughing with him, his voice quiet and happy, and how they would lean into one another for support.

    With each trip, he would gain new memories. How his brother, frail and sickly, took on the duties of the Earl and the Queen’s Watchdog. How his brother’s voice had turned cold and detached. How Aunt Ann died, and how she threatened to kill his brother just before her death. How his brother began making his own household and family. How his laugh, once quiet and warm and genuine, had turned so painfully loud and fake.

    His brother had always been rubbish at hiding things from Ciel.

    Ciel wanted to hold his hand again. He wanted to hug him and never let him go. He wanted to tell him that there was no need to hide anymore, no need to lie anymore because he was right here. Because he would always be right beside him, ready for him to lean on whenever things were too hard or too much for him to handle. He was ready to listen to this story. He was ready to listen to it all, blood and gore and lies be damned, and he was not going to leave him again. He couldn't. They couldn't lose each other again.

    When he learned how to walk, he knew that he was ready to keep all of his promises. But then… things started getting out of his control.

    The first thing he felt when he truly woke up was hatred and a missing void deep inside him. He became a slave to these feelings as soon as he started walking, and lost control over his own thoughts and actions. When he saw Elizabeth, he did not see his dear friend and cousin; instead, he saw only a pawn to manipulate. When he stared at the picture of his brother, he felt a pull towards him and the emptiness grew heavier. He had to be there. He needed to walk, run there. He needed to be by his side. He couldn't care less about the fact that his body would fall apart, that the demon would tear him into pieces, that his brother might not see him the same way. He needed to be there. He needed to always be there. He didn't want anyone stealing his rightful place beside his brother.

    He knew that this was wrong. He swore it to God, he swore it to himself. And yet, the gun and the words seemed to have their own thoughts. Before he knew it, he was killing people and taking pleasure from it, he was writing messages on the wall with their blood, and he was securing his place by his brother’s side. It felt as if some other creature was wearing his skin and using his voice, and he could do nothing but watch as it destroyed everything it touched.

    He watched as his brother's eye grew wide with fear and realization. His face was carved by horror as the situation at hand truly dawned upon him. His knees and hands were shaking. He had blood on his gloves. He had come here after he had seen what happened in the London manor, and Ciel felt sick to his very stomach. And yet, he kept talking. He kept telling his brother of what had happened since them parting ways, he kept at it while looking at him in the eye. _Get everyone away until only I am left. Until he can depend only on me._

    A fight? Don't make him laugh. This was never intended to be a fight in the first place. This was meant to be a slaughter. But he could see the fight in his brother’s eye. He could see that winning this fight would not be as easy as he had thought it would be.

    His brother had changed. The house had changed. There… was nothing left for Ciel in this world. There truly was nothing left for him. But he had wished that his brother would fight for him. He had wished it so much that it hurt, but it was just the way things were. And if his brother won this fight, Ciel would gladly bow down and let him have his way.

    “Why?” his brother questioned. Ciel looked at him. His brother was not smiling, and the gentle warmth of his eyes were long gone. But there was mercy in them. He still had a soft tenderness in his heart, and it made Ciel’s own unbeating heart ache.

    “I suppose… that it would be foolish if I were to ask for us to start over.” Ciel felt his eyes sting. He remembered what crying felt like. It was a bitter and humiliating feeling he wished he could forget forever, but it didn't feel as bad when there only his brother was seeing him in this state. He cried openly. He knew his brother would kill him now, and he closed his eyes. The only thing he felt were warm arms around him. “Bro...ther?”

    His brother did nothing but smile gently and pet his hair. “What happened, Ciel?”

    Ciel’s tears renewed and he began sobbing in earnest as he told his story. The horrible feelings that he felt, the emptiness, the lack of control… All of it. Without hesitation, without leaving out a single detail. His brother listened and comforted him all the while until there were no more tears left to cry and words left to say. “I can't live without you, please, don't make me do it. Please. It’s so dark. I’m so scared. Don't leave me. Please, please, don't leave me again.”

    There was silence in the room. It was the only answer Ciel needed.

    His brother… had been gone for a long time, hadn't he? His brother had died with him in that cage.

    Ciel couldn't save this corpse, and this corpse could not save him.

    “Kill me,” was all that Ciel requested. “I'm sorry for bothering you. I… I just want to be with my brother."

    A gunshot was the last thing he ever remembered. 

**Author's Note:**

> All death threats in the comments will be written into a notebook next to the jar of your tears.


End file.
